Return of the wolf ....only i'm not alone ON HOLD

Return of the wolf....only i'm not alonepart21

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Chapter 21

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Recap:

My stomach knotted in anticipation of talking to my mum, then I felt the dull ache of anger rise in me, and finally the crushing pain at the thought of not seeing Trey.

I brushed my feet against the soft, cream carpet as I rubbed my eyes. My alarm glowed in the half darkness, 10:26 am.

Maybe today I would finally get some answers.

………………………………………………………………………………………

I sighed; walking into my bathroom I went to the toilet, washed and brushed my teeth. Slowly, taking my time out of drowsiness and a growing anxiousness building in the pit of my stomach.

Like a growing storm, about to break….

What the hell was up with my mum last night?

I shook my head as I looked at my reflection in the mirror, seeing the slight glint in my eyes that I always seemed to get before the night of a full moon. I didn’t know why my eye’s seemed bluer and more animalistic looking – maybe it was my body telling me I was close to shifting.

I’d have to make sure to keep my strength and speed at human speed when talking to my mum, I couldn’t loose control, no matter how angry she might make me when we talk.

Just before full moon, emotions run high and control doesn’t.

Some kind of twisted werewolf side effect.

Maybe I’ll ask Trey about that sometime… if he’s still talking to me, that is.

I winced, mentally replaying the embarrassment of my mother walking in on her subsequent insulting words and us kissing to my mate.

I felt a surge of anger when I thought about what she said to him.

God, I’d hate me if I were in his shoes.

I brushed my hair, noting the slight dark circles under my eyes from stress, before I trudged over to my still unpacked bag to find something to wear.

I actually needed to unpack. I wasn’t going to go back to boarding school anymore so I just had to get used to being back. I quickly and efficiently put my already folded t-shirts, skirts, jeans, dresses and underwear into drawers or hung the dresses on hangers. I stood back and surveyed my now clothed furnished wardrobe, before picking out a dark dress with a round neck line, short sleeves and flatteringly skimmed my waist and the hemline stopped a few inches above my knees. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and took a deep breath, opening my bedroom door.

Time to face the music. I hope to god this conversation doesn’t turn out like the equivalent of Rebecca Black’s ‘ Friday’. That would be painful for the both of us.